


Their Sage

by Aerona13



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, cuteness, happiness, larry stylinson - Freeform, pregnant!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerona13/pseuds/Aerona13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thinks of a name for his and Louis' baby girl and Louis isn't 100% sure of it.</p>
<p>Written as a response to a Tumblr ask to theboyfriends (follow them!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Sage

**Author's Note:**

> Not my usual, but RL sucks at the moment so I needed something light and cute. This fit the bill.

“...it's a girl!”  
Louis stopped breathing at the doctor's announcement. How the hell could he have a daughter? How the hell could he have a child? He wasn't ready for this!  
He looked down to where Harry lay on the bed next to him and felt his courage rising. Harry was staring at the ultrasound screen with such an amazed look on his face that Louis could no longer find any fear in his heart. The hearts in those green eyes and the glow from that porcelain skin were enough to chase it all away.  
The doctor left the room and Louis helped his husband rearrange his clothing, carefully wiping the gel from the stomach currently housing their child.  
“Lou, it's a girl,” Harry said, so softly, almost like a prayer.  
“I know.”  
“It's a girl, Lou.”  
“I know.”  
Harry suddenly jumped into Louis' arms and shrieked, “It's a girl!”  
Louis could only laugh and say for a third time, “I know.”  
“What should we name her?” Harry asked as they left the room.  
Louis froze mid-step. “Hazza, I...I have no idea.” Because he didn't. He was still trying to process the fact that there was going to be a little female him-and-Harry. What to call her had never entered his brain. How could Harry be ready for that step already?  
Harry didn't seem to noticed his hesitation, just stared into the air and bit his lip in concentration. He was silent as Louis guided him out to their car and they headed home. “Sage,” he declared finally.  
“You want some sage?” Louis asked. “Do you want to go pick some up?” Was Harry having a craving? Did he want to cook something?  
Harry giggled. “No, Boo. I think we should call her Sage. Our baby girl.”  
Louis remained silent. He couldn't talk about this yet.

Louis sat up in bed when Harry shot to his feet. “What is it? Are you in pain?” he asked frantically because Harry's face was contorted and he was staring down at his slightly bulging stomach. The doctor had told them that male pregnancies were very delicate and often ended in miscarriage.  
Harry just shook his head, silent.  
“Then what?”  
“I felt her. Sage. She just moved.” Harry's voice was full of wonder and Louis flopped back onto his pillow in relief.  
He rested a hand on his still pounding heart. “Christ, Harry. Don't do that to me.”  
Harry giggled and climbed back into bed, snuggling up to Louis. “Sorry. It just surprised me.”  
“I know.” Louis pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. “So, it's Sage, is it?” He hadn't heard any more from Harry about names since the doctor's office a month before and, honestly, he'd expected Harry to have a different name for him to consider every week, if not every other day.  
“Mhmm. It just feels right. I dunno why, but I can't call her anything else.”

Over the next several months, Louis found himself referring to their unborn daughter as Sage in his head, never saying it out loud, after hearing Harry use the name so often.  
“Lou! Come feel Sage! She's kicking!”  
“Boo? Boo! Sage REALLY wants some jalapeno ice cream. I know it's midnight, but could you go get her some?”  
“Oh, look, Lou. A sage onesie for our little Sage! We have to get it.”  
Even their friends and family had caught on to the name. The baby shower invitations were a light green with little sage motifs at the corners. All gifts were addressed to “Sage Tomlinson.” Lottie did extensive research and made sure there were no embarrassing or rude nicknames to be contrived from the name. Anne and Jay collaborated to decorate nurseries in every home where the baby girl would be spending time in a garden theme.

“Shit. Louis, I think Sage wants to come home, now,” Harry said as they sat on their sofa watching the telly.  
Louis looked over, confused. They already were home. And then it hit him because Harry was clutching at his nine-month round belly. “Shit!” Louis sprang to his feet and was back by the couch with Harry's hospital bag before Harry could even try to lever himself to his feet.  
Harry was laughing at the horror on his husband's face as Louis stood over him and stared. “Aren't you going to help me?”  
“Should you move? Will that hurt? Can it hurt her if you move? What if she comes now? What if she comes before we get to the hospital?” Louis grabbed a handful of his brown hair and tugged, panicking.  
Harry winced as another little contraction hit. When it passed, he held up his hands to Louis and said in a calm voice, “Louis. There's more of a chance of it hurting Sage, or of her getting here early if you don't get me to the hospital. NOW!” He screamed the last word and jolted Louis back to his right mind.  
“Right.” Louis gently helped Harry to his feet and, grabbing the bag, wrapped an arm around his waddling husband's middle to guide him out of their flat.  
He had to keep himself from speeding to the hospital, one eye always on Harry, counting the minutes between contractions and trying to make his husband smile through the pain. “Just think about finally having our baby girl in your arms in a few hours.”  
“Sage. My Sage.” Harry repeated the name like a mantra through the drive and as he was helped into a wheelchair by a grinning nurse.  
“If you'd just go through there to get scrubbed up, Mr. Tomlinson, we'll have your husband ready to go in just a bit.” She pointed for the showers as she wheeled Harry into an operation room.  
Louis found himself shaking like a leaf – a sage leaf, he laughed to himself – as he pulled on the scrubs another nurse handed him. He had to take several deep breaths to calm himself enough to plaster on a normal smile before rejoining Harry.  
His husband was already laying on the operation table, his pregnant belly uncovered and occasionally rippling with the contractions.  
“You ready, Hazza?” he asked, gripping one of Harry's hands in his.  
Harry beamed up at him and, since a contraction hit at the same time, Louis knew his husband had already been given the anesthesia. “Ready!” Harry chirped. “Are you?”  
Louis bent down and kissed Harry for several moments, trying to convey his pride without words. “I'm so ready, Harry.”  
The doctor came in and explained how the procedure would work, even though both expectant fathers had heard it several times and done their own research in preparation. It was a basic c-section.  
Half an hour later, Louis looked on as a nurse carried his screaming baby off to get cleaned up and weighed. He'd seen his daughter for all of a minute as he cut the cord before she was whisked off. And Harry was in the process of being closed and cleaned up, so Louis was just standing there next to the bed, waiting to be told what to do next.  
Harry was asleep when the nurse came back with a bundle of pink cloth. Louis blinked, still in shock, when she tried to hand him the bundle.  
“Mr. Tomlinson? Louis? Would you like to hold your daughter?” The nurse tried to contain her smile. She loved seeing new fathers reacting to the first sight of their child.  
Louis nodded numbly and positioned his arms to receive his daughter. He looked down and, making sure that she was secure in the crook of his arm, gently brushed his finger down her tiny nose. A smile slowly bloomed on his face when bright blue eyes blinked up at him and the little bow mouth pursed.  
“Sage. My Sage.” He breathed out. And Harry was right. There was no other name for their Sage.

椢


End file.
